


Howl

by gaialux



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Werecreatures, Claiming, Knotting, M/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:44:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaialux/pseuds/gaialux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They escape through Busmalis' tunnel out into the cold New York night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Howl

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle, using the prompts: submit, torn, claim, scar, howl, crave, night, plan. I decided Oz needed A/B/O. And true love.

They escape through Busmalis' tunnel out into the cold New York night. Busmalis goes left, Ryan and Miguel right because Miguel has a vague thought of it being the fastest way to Mexico. Yeah, right. They settle into an abandoned warehouse after sunlight begins to peek over the horizon, find a busted old radio that picks up only one station, and wait out the news of where the cops are gonna search.  
  
"They'll go to our parents," Ryan says, chewing hard on his thumb. "Well, yours. I ain't got mine anymore."  
  
"Yeah," Miguel says, more musing than anything. " _Mi mamá..._ "  
  
Really, they should be making plans. Instead they fuck. A lot.

 

* * *

 

It starts easy enough, because Ryan already knows. Secrets? You can't keep those in Oz. Criminal history, family history, medical history: it all comes out into the open soon enough. The loco Latino hides things better than most, but Ryan claws his way to knowing things better than the rest so it all works out in the end.  
  
Like how Miguel is actually an omega, despite how he thinks he leads (or _used_ to at least, Ryan can never keep track of everyone in Em City) the betas. Ryan's sure there's others in Oz, probably in Em City, he just can't be fucked to search out the history of most of those losers. But Miguel's different. Ryan's always known that.  
  
So when the suppressants start wearing off and the lunar cycle starts to tick over, Ryan picks up on it pretty early on. It's not even the scent — though that's definitely becoming prominent — it's more the way Miguel avoids him, stops talking about Mexico and freedom, wanders off to explore more of the warehouse even though it's a box with nothing more than rotting furniture and one smashed-in old computer. Nothing special, nothing to explore. Miguel does it anyway, until Ryan decides to go find him.  
  
He's sitting in a corner, head bowed. Through the one grimy window that hasn't been blacked out, Ryan can see the moon. He hasn't seen the moon since before Oz and, for a moment, that's all he focuses on. The knowledge that he's free now, can transform in the next few days. Can be a wolf again. They don't have him anymore.  
  
"Alvarez?" he asks, because Miguel's still here and Miguel's the same (more record checking, then sitting on the cement flooring, stunned, because nobody else in the prison was a were-anything. Just them).  
  
"Yeah?" Miguel's voice is muffled by his arm and sounds a little choked.  
  
"You okay?" Ryan squats down, hesitates, then reaches out anyway. Miguel shrinks back, glares up at him. "Hey — Miguel, c'mon."  
  
Of course he doesn't come closer. At least not then. Ryan goes to a store, manages to buy them enough food undetected, and comes back to a short news flash on the radio saying Miguel Alvarez has been detected in Florida. Not even close.  
  
He finds Miguel in the same place as he left him, only now his finger is tracing the pattern of the moon as it filters brighter through the window. More than half full now, and even if Ryan hadn't done all that background research, he'd know Miguel was an omega now. Would have no doubt. Or that he's a werewolf. The scent is too strong, overpowering, and Ryan knows that by tomorrow the entire warehouse will be filled with it.  
  
They both know it. Inevitably, that's how it really gets started.  
  
Miguel tenses the second Ryan looks at him. He can smell too, probably better than Ryan. His hands shake, the finger tracing the moon moving in a more haphazard line, and Ryan kneels down just like before. This time when he reaches out, Miguel doesn't pull away. If anything he comes closer, let's Ryan trail a hand up his arm. Ryan's got no idea what he's doing, only that's he starting to regret not stealing those suppressants from the drug store he walked past.

Because Ryan's not gay. He like pussy. And he's never been picky about the type — alpha, beta, omega, any colour of the fucking rainbow. So long as it had tits and a cunt, he was good. Only now he can feel Miguel shaking under his hand. Hard enough that he's starting to question if Miguel's on some other schedule for transformation and will burst into fully-fledged wolf form right here and now. Then Miguel looks up at him, eyes wide and wild, and he might not be a chick but he's pretty fucking irresistible. Ryan leans across and kisses Miguel.

Miguel's always been crazy. Ryan figured that the moment he heard about how he took a shank to his own face. So it doesn't altogether surprise him that Miguel's kissing back with enough ferocity to push Ryan back onto his ass. His mouth finds that very scar, texture different than the rest of him, then back to Miguel's mouth. Part of him wants to imagine Miguel as a woman, but the heat digging into his leg kinda ruins that potential illusion.

Fuck it. Fuck it all. He's a free man now, screw the image.

Ryan pushes Miguel back against the wall, moonlight catching on his arm now. He wants to see it as a leg soon, to run and howl again because he hasn't in years and it  _hurts_. Physically, mentally, emotionally — what are the other types of abuse Mukada's always rambling on about? He doesn't remember right now, but he's sure they're also affecting him. Abuse, that's all Oz was.

The scent of Miguel is stronger and Ryan stops thinking about anything else. He tears at Miguel's Oz-issue pants (who the fuck wears those things when they escape prison? Crazy damn fucker), ripping them down Miguel's legs and out of the way. He's wearing sweats himself, a little more inconspicuous and practical, but he hears them rip as he tackles them down and off. Doesn't really matter, all things considered. He'll find something else, he's nothing if not resourceful.

"O'Reily," Miguel says. Only that.

Ryan says nothing. He just forces Miguel's legs apart with one hand and strokes his own dick with the other. If they're gonna do this, they're gonna do it properly. Maybe without the looking into each other's eyes because Ryan's still having a hard time kicking his mind into gear about what they're doing. He's gonna fuck a werewolf. A male werewolf. He's got a dick. That's weird in Ryan's world.

"You gonna do it?"

"Shut up."  _Bossy omega bitch_.

It's still weird, and his eyes seem to be unable to look anywhere but at Miguel's cock. He's so not used to that, and he finds his own hand slowing. Miguel catches his wrist, grabs his attention.

"It's okay," Miguel says, voice softer this time. "You don't..."

Only Ryan does. Plus he's not so interested in being told what to do by Miguel. Or anyone, really. Got enough of that from the hacks. Then there's the fact his cock's throbbing and every piece of instinct he has left is telling him to  _fuck, fuck, fuck_ even though it's Miguel. Even though it's a  _dick_ in front of him. More _fuck it_ s fly through his mid and he brings his body forward, cock still in hand, and presses it into Miguel's already slick hole. It's a hell of a lot different than anything he's experienced before. Slick, tight, and Miguel's strong legs wrap around the back of his, pull him closer.

"Fuck—" Miguel says, voice catching on the last two letters.

Ryan bites down on his lip and keeps from saying anything, and looks up at the window to keep from looking at Miguel. He knew Miguel would be quick, but not necessarily this quick, and he can already feel him clenching up. Muttering something in Spanish about " _mas, mas_ " and " _cogerme_ ", and Ryan stares outside at the fast completing moon as he fucks harder into Miguel and feels him come.

He keeps going because Miguel doesn't pull away, if anything his legs are clenching tighter and drawing Ryan further in. It's then that he starts to become aware of the knot growing at the base of his cock. Which is completely new, not even with Shannon which is what lead him to seek out the other girls in the first place, to try and find someone who would...but no-one.

"You are—" Miguel is saying. Ryan takes the chance to look down, find Miguel's eyes that are staring right back at him. He thinks he should feel vulnerable, but nothing in him really does. "You're a—"

Ryan's got no idea what Miguel's trying to get out, only that if the end of that sentence is  _an alpha_ , Miguel's a bigger idiot than Ryan's ever given him credit for. Then Miguel reaches down between them, fingers sliding over Ryan's knot, and Ryan looks at him in confusion.

"Wolf. You're a— _hombre-lobo_." His head falls back. " _Shit_ —"

"What does that—?" Ryan tries, but he can't get the words out. Can't do anything else except fuck harder into Miguel and feel the knot slipping from the base of his cock and stretching Miguel's ass, Miguel's fingers coming up to dig into Ryan's biceps and he's muttering nonsense words in Spanish, English, and he swears there's a bit of Irish thrown in for good measure until Ryan realises that's just himself.

Miguel's legs clench tighter at the back of Ryan's knees and he gasps this time, sound echoing through the warehouse. He's still not done, still keeps Ryan close even after he stops shaking. Ryan presses his palms into the floor and finally lets himself look down and  _stay_ there. One hand loops around Miguel's leg, stops it clenching (and he  _swears_ he'll have bruises tomorrow) and gets a better angle. He can feel it building, different than any other orgasm (because it's a  _knot_ , cockhead), and he slams into Miguel one last time before he feels himself come and come, hard enough that black and white fuzzes are the edges of his vision.

 

* * *

 

It's later, after Ryan went and sat outside and stared up at the moon for hours, that he sits beside Miguel again. Miguel's still in his corner, but sitting in direct line of the moon that makes his face shimmer.

"What did you mean..." Ryan clears his throat, tries again. "I mean, yeah, I am...but why does that matter?"

Miguel shrugs, doesn't look at him. "Y'know when you go to prison and they say you gotta stick with your own kind?"

"Yeah."

"Read somewhere that's what it's like, for us. Gotta find someone the same then you...I dunno." Miguel shrugs. " _Claim_ them or something."

"And what does  _that_ mean?" Ryan's got a sneaking suspicion he already knows, and it leaves the strangest sensation in his stomach. Not altogether unpleasant, actually, and that's probably the worst part of it all.

"Dunno." Miguel looks at him, finally, and has that little smirk that isn't quite a smirk on his face. "Used the rest of the pages for joints."


End file.
